


Post-SBURB Gains

by The Robofucker 3000 (striiderz)



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Accidental weight gain, Button Popping, Drabble, Fast Food, Fat - Freeform, Fat Fetishism, Fat fetish, Foodie, Literally just a weight gain story, No Sex, Other, Post-Sburb (Homestuck), Post-Sburb/Sgrub, Weight Gain, being a fatass, feedee, feederism, just dirk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-31
Updated: 2021-01-31
Packaged: 2021-03-18 12:53:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 736
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29118549
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/striiderz/pseuds/The%20Robofucker%203000
Summary: (DRABBLE, ~700 words)After the game, Dirk gains some weight on accident but grows to love it (and grows in some other ways too).
Kudos: 18





	Post-SBURB Gains

After the game ends, Dirk would absolutely become a foodie. After years in the middle of the ocean with little to no access to any food that he didn’t catch and prepare himself, he would fall into the habit of ordering fast food all the time. It tasted way better than what he was used to, and it was easy to get a hold of. Even with his slow metabolism that he had to have as a survivor in a post-apocalyptic world, he would find himself eating a little more than he normally would, slowly ordering more and more food for himself, even when he didn’t need it. It was good for him to save food when he was alone on an ocean. He had to in order to survive. So why wouldn’t it be now?

One day, Dirk discovers that fries and fast food will go bad if you don’t eat it right away, and who would he be to throw out his extra food he always ordered and not eat it? He was always a resourceful guy, never letting anything go to waste. So why would that have changed? Slowly but surely, his small fries become a medium and a large, a doubled order, and a large Fanta. 

He starts to find himself snacking when he normally wouldn’t. He finds himself getting hungrier, and that his once barely there abs were now not abs at all, more looking like a layer of chub. He notes that his thighs chafe together when he walks, but just promises that he’ll work out more, despite knowing he doesn’t have the self preservation for that. 

He convinces himself that it’s just water weight, and that it will go away in a week or so. A week turns quickly to a month, and he feels jiggly. He’s gaining around ten pounds a month now, and he can’t seem to stop the weight from piling on as plush, warm fat around his thighs and belly, stretch marks soon spreading along his torso. 

Even then, he can’t help but feel secure with this weight gain. He feels his cheeks flush with color when he overeats to the point of immobility, squirming around and panting, desperately trying to rub and massage his belly. It sends a little jolt of embarrassing arousal when he admits it to himself: he got fat, and there was no denying it now.

After a while, he starts to gain weight on purpose. He buys heavy cream, chugging it before dinner at night, stuffing himself with the most calorie laden, greasy, fatty foods he can get his hands on. He lounges around all day, eating and sleeping. It turned him on to see him like this, like a slob. 

One day, after eating a big meal for breakfast, Dirk goes for seconds, having trouble standing up in doing so. He waddles over to the fridge and grabs a pint of heavy cream. He uncaps the lid and chugs it, taking big and greedy gulps. As he finishes off the carton, he hears a creaking noise, followed by the button on his jeans snapping off and going flying. 

That would probably be the last time he fit into skinny jeans. Or any size 36, maybe size 38… 40… it goes on. He hardly wears any jeans, just sweatpants or no pants at all. He was just too big for them, and they weren’t that comfortable anyways. Embarrassedly, he took pride in it. His clothes were just too tight to contain his hot bod, as jiggly and as round as that bod might be.

He keeps gaining weight, a visible double chin now appearing, along with a hefty potbelly and a fatty overhang that jiggled when he walked. But Dirk wasn’t done. He wanted more. He wanted to struggle to walk, panting and sweaty. He wanted to stuff his face with fatty, sugary, carb filled foods 24/7. He wanted to constantly be eating, constantly full and in a happy food coma. 

He always wanted more. It was never enough. He gained more and more weight, all of it going right to his thighs and stomach. He waddled rather than walking, stomach constantly gurgling from being either over fed or hungry. His breath was labored, he panted and wheezed going up stairs, sweating like a pig.

Dirk Strider had gotten fat, and he was going to just keep getting fatter.


End file.
